On Tomorrow

Tomorrow never comes.

It is always today.

Always.

As I come down from the absolutely stress and anxiety filled last two weeks, these thoughts keep filtering through my mind.

Today.  This day. This moment.

We, as a culture, always seem to put off until tomorrow what could, and probably should, be done today.

Why do we do that?

Why do we have such a hard time with today?

The Bible tells us that, ‘today is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it’.

But we don’t. We seem to have a really, really, hard time with today. We hate Mondays. We hate Sundays because the next day is Monday. And we hate Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, because they aren’t Friday. We cling to tomorrow for its promise of what we could possibly maybe do.

Yet, it is always today.

Why do we put off taking care of ourselves until tomorrow? Our health is so very important, yet we eat like there is no consequence. What we put in our mouth today becomes our health, or lack thereof. We eat that slice of cheesecake or mound of chocolate chip cookies or bag of chips, or 3 slices of pizza because we foolishly believe we will eat better tomorrow. We have been taught to see food as a reward or as comfort instead of fuel. So, we reward ourselves with a 2000 calorie dinner because we’ve had a bad day. Or we down a gallon of ice cream to comfort ourselves from the harshness of the world. And, then, tomorrow, that word again, tomorrow, we will do better.

Same with exercise. The couch feels like a friend at the end of a long hard day.  Exercise is hard and taxing and we just don’t have the energy today. Tomorrow, we will. We’ll do it tomorrow.

Same with our dreams. How many dreams have you put on hold until tomorrow?

What about that broken relationship? You’ll call them tomorrow, right?

Tomorrow is the best day; it holds the best part of ourselves, doesn’t it? The healthy us. The better eating us. The fixer of broken relationships us. The us that pursues our dreams. 

And in our pursuit of tomorrow, we forget about today.

When everything happened with my Mom, and for a very short synopsis, what happened was she fell and hit her head, twisting her ankle in the process and thought she was fine. And by all accounts she was fine. The people that were with her when it happened sat with her and ate lunch with her for 45 minutes after the fall. She was fine. I saw her four or five times after the fall and she brushed off all questions and concerns. Until, two weeks after she fell, when her right side was hanging limp and she wasn’t quite herself. Six hours after seeing her primary care doctor, she was being wheeled into an OR for emergency brain surgery. Oh, and she had a fractured ankle.

In those moments, tomorrow vanishes like a vapor.

The day after surgery my Mom was crushed. Not because of what happened, but because the concept of today, and how many she has wasted the last few years, settled in on her. She put everything off until tomorrow.

And tomorrow has left her high and dry, without a forwarding address.  

And, now, she is paying for it.

Because the very real concept that she may not be able to do the things she has put off, is a harsh reality. She hasn’t taken care of herself and has filled her belly with sugar and the chemical processed junk that passes as food.  She has put off traveling. She has put off exercising. She has put off new hobbies and old friends. Her cousin in New York called and asked when she is coming for a visit and it reduced her to tears. She may never get back there again.

And I get it, I really do, the concept of tomorrow. Today really does seem to ask a lot from us, but it is tomorrow that twists it around.  We see the exercise routine or that idea of eating better and tomorrow asks us, “Are you going to be able to do this forever?” Um, heck no, why even try? I’ll never be able to keep this up forever. When you're going through a miserable time, tomorrow makes you think that you will never get through the misery. 

Today only asks, “Can you do this today?” Sure. One day is easy. 

As the Pollyanna daughter, I believe my Mom can change things. I believe if she puts her mind to it, she can start believing in the power of today. She has learned that tomorrow isn’t her friend. And after taking a day or two to mourn what is lost, she can start to build a life that is lived in this day. Not in a faraway day that never gets here.

So, make your plans, but remember the strength and power that is in today.

It is always today.

Always.